He grins at the green stone in his palm. It's not much for something with the power to create life itself. Bright green, somewhat see through, interesting little swirling design. He closes his hand.
It's been a long run to get this little devil, and he's not letting it go.
It's only when ash touches his face that he realizes something is wrong. He looks up.
He is Maui, hero of all, shapeshifter, demigod of the wind and sea. That may be the only reason he doesn't scream.
It's nearly as tall as a mountain, made of rough black stone and blood of lava. It howls at him with its gaping face.
He doesn't know what it is, but he's got a pretty good idea of what it's here for.
Maui tightens his grip on his fishhook, grits his teeth, and leaps into the air.
Whipping his hook down, he transforms. Feathers whistle in the wind as he darts upward. The beast roars at him.
He dodges the hand. It's not far enough away to be comfortable - it's much closer than normal. He's rusty. He spent too long planning this thing out.
The fingers of the hand skim the water. They flicker and go dark and the monster screams. But he only has a second to think about that before the other smacks him out the sky.
It is hot like fire and hard like stone. It burns and stings and throbs all at the same time.
He looses his grip on the heart and his fishhook. It feels like someone wrenched them from his hands.
He's sailing through the air.
It's only when he realized he's been flying for hours that he knows something is up. That him being hit from the sky wasn't an accident.
It's then he hits face first into a mountain.
He's unconscious. First time for everything.
He spends the first year recovering.
The demigod of the wind and sea isn't just a title. He's immortal, which means he can't die. But injuries and everything else are fair game. If he gets split up into a bunch of tiny Maui chunks, he has to live out the rest of his life in utter agony. But he doesn't die.
He can hardly move. It's agony.
Every part is covered in burns from the fiery lava hand. His hair is completely singed off. There are black, sooty marks on the inside of his eyelids. Every bone in his face and neck is broken from his hit on the mountain.
On the dawn of his second year, he twitches a finger and counts it as an accomplishment.
It's another three before he's able to stand.
But all of the time laying in the full force of the sun on sharp rocks and pointed edges has given him time to think.
Why is he here? Why was he struck so purposely from the sky? Why was his hook taken away from him?
The answer lies in the small green stone that is wherever his hook is.
Ta Fiti's heart. The cursed object. But a Goddess's heart, her soul, her power.
This is, he decides, the gods' punishment.
The sun seems to nod at him.
But he refuses to bow to their will of trying to lock him in this island.
His eyes are small and shriveled - or, at least, they feel that way - so he becomes nocturnal, only waking up at night. It's easier than trying to see in the blaring sun.
He lays there, blinking and wincing for a long while. But when the sun sets he begins.
It's small at first - pushing up with his back, pulling up with his abs. He's sitting.
There must be a broken rib or something in there, because his chest throbs. He ignores it.
Putting his hand on a nearby rock, he pushes himself to his feet.
His legs damn near give out from under him, and he bites his tongue to keep from crying out.
His first step is a half limp, half stumble. He hates how weak he is.
But he quickly figured out where he is. A crator. A Maui-shaped crator made by him slamming down onto earth.
It takes him four days to muster the strength to get out.
Another three to recover.
The island is tiny. He can walk all the way around in less than an hour, human speed. That is, after the week that it took to finally fix his final broken rib.
But even though the ocean stretches on endlessly in either direction and he's tempted to start swimming, his chest rumbles.
It's been five years since he's last eaten.
He wonders why he hadn't noticed it before. His stomach, now that he's noticed it, is howling and begging and screaming for food. The longest he's ever been before is one month as he was stuck in Lalioti, and he ate an entire school of fish later.
There are no animals on this island, and the only plants are grass.
It's only a day before he gives in and starts to eat the greens.
It's only a day more when he starts puking.
He can't survive on grass, and he's already eaten every scrap on the island.
The ocean is bright and cold. It's salt water.
Though his tongue is dry and shriveled, he cannot drink it. There are no springs on this island, and that's about the moment when it's called a 'filthy pile of pebbles' in his mind.
He needs food. He would almost cut off a finger or toe if he knew he would grow it back. It's been five years and about a month. He's counting every day now, carving a line in the rocks as the sun rises.
Maybe he'll make it in the pattern of his fishhook.
Fishhook.
Fish!
Surely there are fish by this island, and fish means food.
But there are no trees to make traps or lines or anything. He'd already thought of building a boat.
It's about a minute of dithering before he plunges in with his arms open.
He's only going neck deep - he doesn't quite feel strong enough to swim - but his gaze scans everything around him.
The ground is a light sand that sticks to his toes.
There are no fish.
Desperate, he searches every side of the island. He doesn't sleep. He barely blinks.
There are no fish.
He needs food.
He can survive without it but he can't. He's never gone long without food before. His appetite is too great.
He gives up. It may take him a year, but he will swim out and find something to eat.
The gods don't care what he decides.
Hey everyone! Little Moana fanfic for ya'll! I'm planning on making this more than a oneshot, with short little chapters talking about every couple of years or every couple hundred. He did spend a thousand years trapped there, after all.
Anyway! Please tell me of any chapter ideas you have!
Please read and review!
Frost OUT!
